


Fangirl

by nonnymouse



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Infidelity, Internalized Victim Blaming, Open Marriage, internalized slut shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnymouse/pseuds/nonnymouse
Summary: Bad Bob knows a puck bunny gagging for it, even if the puck bunny doesn't know it.





	1. Fangirl

**Author's Note:**

> The encounter in the first chapter is dubiously consensual. In the second chapter, Suzanne blames herself instead of Bob. Both chapters reference Suzanne and Coach's less-than-thrilled reaction to Bitty coming out.
> 
> Written for this kinkmeme prompt:
> 
> "Bad Bob/Suzanne Bittle, dubcon
> 
> Bad Bob might be retired but he knows a puck bunny gagging for it when he sees one"
> 
> https://omgkinkplease.dreamwidth.org/586.html?thread=342346#cmt342346

It had been a long week, and Bob needed a beer. When he went to the fridge, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find Suzanne in the kitchen, pulling a pie with a complicated lattice shaped like a heart from the oven.  
  
"You want a beer?" he asked.  
  
She jumped, but didn’t drop the pie, setting it gently on a cooling rack before turning to Bob with a sheepish smile. "Absolutely. I think Dicky wanted the kitchen, but I started stress-baking first." She sighed, looking at her pie as she drank from the beer he handed her. "I really do love him and want him to know it. This is all just …"  
  
Bob looked at her looking sadly at her pie and clapped her on the shoulder. "C’mon to the study, Suzanne. I’ve got a bar in there. You need something stronger than beer."  
  
As they walked together, Bob worked on getting the conversation going. "Coach’s flight gets in tomorrow, right? Does he need a ride to the cabin?"  
  
"Yes, tomorrow evening, so that he’ll be here for the weekend. Dicky arranged for an Uber. He thinks we need to be more modern."  
  
Perhaps bringing up her husband who had decided not to come for the full family trip hadn’t been the best move. The mood hung even heavier.  
  
When they reached the study, Bob poured two shots of tequila, thinking it would help loosen them up before they got to sipping on a real drink. Suzanne reached right around him to take both shots. She gasped and patted her breastbone a few times, but took it pretty well.  
  
"Thank you," she said emphatically, falling backward onto the leather loveseat and shutting her eyes. "Let’s not talk about our kids, okay?"  
  
"No problem." Bob poured them each a large measure of bourbon. "You want anything in your bourbon?"  
  
"A splash of lemonade, please."  
  
They drank in silence for several minutes. Over half of Suzanne’s drink was gone, but only a quarter of Bob’s. He was nursing his drink, simply enjoying the taste rather than trying to get drunk. He’d had enough of hangovers in his wilder days.  
  
He’d gotten used to the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable when Suzanne broke it with a series of giggles. She sounded less stressed, which had been the point of the liquor.  
  
"Y’know, I can’t believe I’m in Bad Bob’s vacation home. Turns my head every time I try to wrap my mind around it. I had a poster of you hanging in my dorm room. I think it might’ve been smaller than this study."  
  
"Which poster?" Bob asked. There’d been one of him holding the Cup over his head that had sold very well. Probably not the one hanging over the couch in the study, of him scoring the winning goal in the last Stanley Cup Final he'd ever played. Too late in his career.  
  
"Oh, you know," Suzanne said vaguely. But her eyes were sharp as she looked at him through heavy lids, and her lips were tilted into a smirk where they met her glass as she took another sip.  
  
He recognized that look. In her day, Suzanne Bittle had been a little puck bunny. Or, more likely, she’d bought some of the cheesecake posters and dreamed of fucking a hockey player since she was stuck down in Georgia. But as far as Bob was concerned, it was never too late to make a fan’s dreams come true.  
  
"I’m guessing that I wasn’t wearing a shirt in this poster."  
  
"No, siree. You weren’t."  
  
Bob loved the lilt flirtation added to Suzanne’s accent. Smoothly, he removed the black t-shirt he was wearing and leaned back in his armchair, spreading his legs a little. He liked a cold beer now and then, but he'd stayed active enough to keep his chest lean. He knew he still looked good, if not as defined as he'd been at his height. "A little more like this?"  
  
"A little," she agreed, finishing her drink.  
  
"Let me get you another." He stood and took her glass, refilling it. This time he sat next to her on the loveseat.  
  
She took a deep drink before setting her glass down on the coffee table in front of the loveseat. "I think I still have that poster somewhere. Packed it away carefully so it wouldn’t get bent, then never unpacked it after I got married. But I had some good times back in college."  
  
Bob shrugged. "No need not to have good times now. Being married doesn’t mean never having fun."  
  
"Oh, it’s not that I never have fun." She stopped, taking a while to marshal her thoughts. She took another drink. "It’s just less spontaneous now. I have more to think about first."  
  
"I think you need a little spontaneity." Bob leaned in, waiting until she leaned closer as well. "Tell me, Suzie—you ever touch yourself looking at that poster?"  
  
She let out a trembling breath and blinked rapidly, but it didn’t hide how her pupils had widened, shrinking her iris to a thin ring of color around a pool of black.  
  
"They do call me Bad Bob for a reason, sweetheart," he said as he unbuttoned her practical sleeveless blouse. Her bra was a blue and white checked plaid with a little bow in the middle. "This is cute," he told her as he slipped the blouse off her shoulders and undid the back of the bra with one hand. He did have enough practice to know it was important to be smooth with the bra. He had it off before Suzanne said, "No, wait—" and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
  
He looked at her, but she was just looking at him with those big eyes and not saying anything. He looked back down at her revealed breasts. They were perfect, too small for gravity to have had much of an effect on them. She was in good shape, probably liked to jog in the mornings and go to yoga with her gal pals.   
  
The lithe muscles on her small form reminded Bob of her son. Bitty really did look like his mom, aside from the differences of gender. She’d done a good job with her boy, even if they were going through a rough patch.  
  
He looked back up. Her mouth had dropped open, ever so slightly, while he gazed at her breasts. He watched as her tongue darted out to lick her lips. He could feel the wicked smile on his face. He could see her reaction too, the way she breathed in deep, heaving those perfect breasts.  
  
Keeping eye contact, he bent down to kiss one. He trailed little kisses from the edge to the nipple. By the time he reached the nipple, he’d taken the other breast in hand, and rubbed one calloused thumb over that nipple as he kissed the other. He bit, lightly, pulling just enough that he could roll the nipple between his lips, while he gently pinched and rubbed the other.  
  
He smiled against her skin as she cried out, her legs trembling beneath him.  
  
She didn’t resist as he removed her sensible khaki shorts. Her cotton underwear were a pale blue that matched her long-gone bra, aside from a darker patch, wet between the legs. He ran a finger across that wet patch, watched those pretty lips part to let out a sweet moan, watched her blink away tears.  
  
"Good girl, Suzie," he said, sliding those underwear down trim legs. He let his fingers trail along her skin, enjoying how very responsive she was. She might be letting him take charge, but Suzanne was no dead fish.  
  
Her cunt was wet and swollen, calling out for his mouth. He spread her legs wide with his hands, let her slip farther down onto her back. He knelt on the floor to get the right angle to taste her. He licked, broad, exploratory strokes, before focusing on the hard nub of her clit. She rocked her hips in little, needy circles, gasps falling from her lips like sobs.  
  
Her lips were parted, so wet and inviting, and when he slid a finger into her cunt, there was no resistance. She was ready and waiting.  
  
He crawled up her body, kissing her to keep the mood going while he took off his pants, hastily shoving them down to his ankles and not bothering to get them all the way off. He kept his fingers in her cunt, two of them, pressing against the places that made Suzanne moan into his mouth. It felt like she was purring, her whole body vibrating with desperate want.  
  
When he replaced his fingers with his cock, she was so wet that he could slide in with one smooth stroke. He kept his pace slow and gentle. No need to hurry. There was so much of her body to explore. Her ass was tight—she didn’t skip her squats—but there was enough there to squeeze. And to hold as he pushed himself deeper into her body. That sweet ass had been another thing she’d passed down. Nature had been generous to the Bittles.  
  
Of course, his hands kept going back to her breasts. He smoothed his palms along the curves, toyed with her nipples, played until he knew what touches made the best sounds fall from her mouth. And what a mouth it was, perfect for kissing, with full lips and a tongue that teased his with soft, darting touches.  
  
She wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her hips and then tightening her legs to pull him deeper into her cunt. Suzanne Bittle was a woman who knew what she wanted once she warmed up.  
  
"Oh, Suzie," he moaned as he obliged her wishes and thrust deeper and faster, her hips rising to meet him each time. She made the cutest little needy whimpers, and he finally gave her what she needed, sacrificing one hand on her breasts to rub her clit in quick circles, using the rough skin of his thumb.  
  
She tightened around him in orgasm, the feel of her cunt gripping him tight turning out to be just what he needed to orgasm, too.  
  
They lay there together for a few endless moments, until she finally said, "Yeah."  
  
He pushed up to look down at her. She looked beautiful sprawled bonelessly on the dark leather, her skin covered with the faint sheen of sweat. It was sexy, the way his mess dripped from her still flushed cunt. He’d marked his sweet little fan as his.  
  
She repeated herself. "Yeah, I touched myself to that poster."  
  
He picked her up, and she shrieked at the sudden movement, but curled into him as his hold steadied into a bridal carry. "Let’s go upstairs and get you settled."  
  
"Mmm," she said, resting in his hold. "Let’s."

 

* * *

 

"Did you sleep with Suzanne last night?" Alicia asked as she put on her pearls and checked her hair in the mirror.  
  
"Yes?" Bob hadn’t meant to make it a question, but something about Alicia’s eyes made him feel like he was walking into a trap. "You’ve never minded me fucking a fan."  
  
"Bob, Suzanne is the mother of our future son-in-law. We have a real relationship with her. She’s not someone you can fuck once and never see again."  
  
Bob shrugged and wrapped his hands around his wife’s waist, looking over her shoulder at their faces in the mirror. "We can have a relationship. It would be hot, watching her kneel between your legs and eat you out. She’s got that tightly repressed good Southern lady thing going on; bet she’s harboring some lesbian tendencies."  
  
Alicia sighed and applied her lipstick, blotting once. "Let’s just say that I better get eaten out before the weekend is over or someone is sleeping on the loveseat he didn’t clean last night."


	2. Girlfriends

"Anyway, I love you, honey. Please call me back when you get this message." Suzanne pressed the button to end the call, and her phone returned to the previous screen, where Coach had texted her that there was a team emergency. He wasn't going to fly out for the weekend and meet Jack's parents. She understood how hard it was to watch Dicky make his life so much harder than it needed to be, but she couldn't believe he wouldn't come out for her. She needed his support. Although maybe she didn't deserve it, since she'd been weak enough to betray him in the worst way possible.

"Bad news?"

Suzanne jumped, and whirled around guiltily to see Alicia pouring herself a glass of cool water from the pitcher. Every movement the other woman made was so elegant. It made her feel like a country bumpkin. She felt even smaller, knowing what she'd done to her.

"Sorry, you were frowning at your phone and seemed upset. I know it's intrusive to ask."

"No, no," Suzanne reassured her, before sighing and leaning against the counter. "Something has come up and Coach can't make it."

A brief flash of hurt crossed Alicia's face before her normal pleasant, neutral smile reasserted herself. She was good at putting a beautiful face toward the world. Suzanne might've missed the brief flinch, if she didn't understand Alicia's concern for Jack. She wanted the best for her son, too. Suzanne would really like Alicia if her boy hadn't decided to rob the cradle with Dicky. As it was, she admired her from a polite distance. She thought she and Alicia understood each other quite well. Alicia was skilled at being friendly with just enough chill to let you know that she wasn't interested in becoming friends.

"I suppose it's not a plan if it goes perfectly. I'm sure Bob and I will have other chances to meet Coach."

Suzanne nodded, feeling that Alicia was right about those future opportunities and unsure about how she felt about that.

"Would you like some water, before I put the pitcher up?"

Suzanne silently shook her head, and Alicia continued, "I should've asked first. We rarely have visitors who aren't like family; mostly Bob's old friends." Alicia took a small, contemplative breath. "Speaking of Bob, I know he can charge full speed ahead in pursuit of his goal without bothering to explain his play. We've always allowed each other to pursue other lovers. I am not upset that you slept with my husband."

"Oh." Suzanne took a moment to think. It was a small relief, but she'd rather not discuss the other night. What a fool she'd made of herself, getting drunk and flinging herself at her old celebrity crush. He was still a very handsome man, and those hands were as talented as she'd ever dreamed, and she figured that enjoying it made it even worse that she'd done it. "I still need to apologize to you. I didn't know, when I did it. And in your home," her voice went small. "I'm the worst sort of floozy, and I understand if you want me to leave for a hotel."

"Suzanne, darling, I know Bob." Alicia rested a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm sure that once he knew you were interested there was no stopping him. If you really feel that bad about it, why don't you help me clean up? You know husbands. They make these messes and don't even notice."

They shared the conspiratorial smile of women married to thoughtless men that they loved anyway.

 

* * *

 

Entering the study wasn't that bad. Suzanne expected to be flooded with guilt when she crossed the threshold and was confronted with the evidence of her slutty ways, but the room was just another room in the daylight.

When she looked, she could see where the fluid had dried on the leather. Even cleaning it now, there would always be a spot. She pressed her thighs together, a sudden throbbing heat possessing her at the thought that she'd left a mark on Bad Bob Zimmermann's life. She was a bad woman. No wonder she was failing as a mother.

She knelt to look closer at the stain, trying to banish her wild flight of fancy before Alicia noticed. "Do you have leather conditioner?"

"Of course, but I think you should remove as much of the spill as possible, first. Lick it up, Suzanne."

Her eyes darted up toward Alicia, who was looking down at her coolly. She didn't seem mad, as she'd said, but her mien was stern. It was a serious order.

Meekly, Suzanne stuck her tongue out and took a few little licks at the spot. She felt foolish, and glanced at Alicia from the corners of her eyes. Alicia's face hadn't changed, which oddly made her relax a little. She took bigger licks. She'd need to get the liquid a little wet again to get it up from the leather. It thankfully didn't taste of much other than the leather itself. Diligently, she lost herself in the task. She'd always found peace in cleaning.

"Good girl." Alicia's voice came from behind her, with a soft touch to her neck. Alicia was as American as she was, but her years in Canada with her husband and then her son could be heard in her voice. It suited her, that not-quite accent that marked her as different. And those words, said in that light Quebecois accent, sent a shiver down her spine.

Startled out of her reverie, Suzanne looked up from the loveseat. While she watched, Alicia sat in front of her, legs spread to either side of Suzanne's body, and slid her chic silk pencil skirt up to her waist to reveal that she hadn't been wearing panties. Her pussy, small and pink and surrounded by bright blonde hairs, glistened slightly. Suzanne stared, fascinated by the sight. She'd never seen a pussy other than her own, not even her mother's or sister's, unless she'd seen them as a child and forgotten.

"Clean your messes, Suzanne."

Suzanne's eyes snapped up to Alicia's face. She still looked stern, especially with those cold blue eyes of hers. Suzanne didn't know what to say. "I've never—"

Alicia placed a finger over her lips, waiting for Suzanne to quiet and stop trying to speak. When she obeyed, Alicia stroked her hair. Her touch was firm, utterly sure of itself. If she felt any of Suzanne's awkwardness, it didn't show. "Don't worry. You have too much to worry about already, darling. I'll tell you what to do. You just have to follow the instructions. No need to be any more nervous than the first time you're baking a new recipe."

Dicky must have told her how much they liked baking together. The reminder of her real life should've stopped her, made her see sense, but instead it made her trust Alicia more. Alicia knew what she was doing, even though Suzanne felt utterly adrift. Maybe she'd find her way again if she followed someone who knew better.

Suzanne shifted her weight and leaned forward again, focused on Alicia's pussy instead of the now damp spot on the leather. She breathed out over the bared skin.

"That's right," Alicia told her reassuringly. "You're already figuring it out, aren't you? You know what feels good."

With her remaining bits of trepidation making her stomach churn, Suzanne repeated her earlier actions. Staring up into Alicia's eyes, she stuck her tongue out and licked. Alicia tasted better than the leather, although Suzanne couldn't quite describe it. The skin had one taste, the wetness pearling on it another. Together, there was a strong musk, though the actual taste was lighter than it seemed it should be.

Maybe she could've placed the flavors if she had time to sit and ponder, but Alicia kept her focused on her task. Her instructions flowed smoothly in that posh, French-tinged accent. She sounded so cool that Suzanne would think she wasn't affecting Alicia at all, if she couldn't see how Alicia was rocking her hips to press her pussy harder against Suzanne's tongue.

"Now, that's a gorgeous sight. My two favorite girls."

Suzanne froze. She looked pleadingly up at Alicia, even knowing that most of her expression would be obscured by her pubic mound. She didn't even know what she wanted Alicia to do, but she didn't know how to face Bob.

When hands landed on her hips, she jolted forward, her nose pressing into Alicia's skin and making her release a throaty moan. "Keep licking, Suzanne," she ordered. "It's time to focus some more on my clit."

It was calming to have something to do while Bob undressed her. She knew he was going to fuck her without even asking. Her smartest self was outraged that he thought he had the right. But the rest of her was resigned to it. She hadn't pulled away and said no last night, and wasn't doing it now, so there was no reason for him to think she didn't want to do it. And the secret hideous part of herself was thrilled that Bad Bob wanted to fuck her again. She knew she was a boring housewife. She and Coach had a nice life, but she wasn't the sort of woman that sports legends dreamed about. Not when they had glamorous models-slash-movie stars at home.

"I love your tight little body," Bob said, making her shiver. His hands roamed restlessly from her breasts to her pussy, making her breathe out these breathy little gasps against Alicia's skin. His calloused fingers pushed into her pussy, the rough texture of them absolutely perfect on her sensitive skin. "You made a gorgeous son with this body, all small and muscled like you."

As much as Suzanne loved hearing her Dicky complimented, this was not a moment where she wanted to be thinking of her son.

"Stop distracting her," Alicia ordered. She petted Suzanne's hair. "Suzanne, darling, just keep working."

"I'll get to it, then. So impossible to please." As he thrust his cock deep into her pussy, all in one smooth stroke that had her clenching around the sudden fullness, left her breathless, he said, "Alicia got onto me last night for not talking because we have a relationship with you and you're not just any fan. But now it's too much talking, apparently."

Alicia wouldn't reassure Suzanne that she wasn't a floozy now that she could see all Suzanne needed to come was Bad Bob telling her she wasn't just any fan.

But while she hung there panting between them, Bob riding her through her orgasm, Alicia simply stroked her shoulders and murmured to her reassuringly about how lovely she was, how good she was for them. And before she'd fully come back to herself, Alicia's hand was already on the back of her hand, pushing her face in deep again, telling her how to suck on Alicia's clit.

Mindlessly, she obeyed. Harder now, more suction than tongue. Having something to concentrate on helped balance the intensity of Bob fucking her, her pussy still tender from last night and the wake of her near instant orgasm. She shuddered again in a smaller climax when Bob came inside her, his cock throbbing with orgasm in a pleasing rhythm.

She felt wrung out, her jaw sore and tired, but Alicia was still giving her those smooth, meticulous orders. Finally though, there was the littlest hitch in her voice, a whining breath, and then her pussy pulsed beneath Suzanne's mouth. Following Alicia's last order, she kept up the suction, the same pressure on Alicia's clit until the last throes of her orgasm finished. She finished cleaning her with the smallest little kitten licks, careful of her sensitivity.

Done with her task, she settled back onto her heels. She blushed at the feeling of semen trickling down her thighs. Alicia's eyes fluttered open, that blue piercing right through Suzanne and causing her to blush hotly with her shame. Smiling down at her, Alicia reached down to stroke the edge of her breast, from the base to the barest edge of her nipple. "Good girl, Suzanne."

Somehow, Alicia made her feel it, even though she was kneeling naked in front of a woman who was already pushing her skirt down and looking like she'd never even been touched and that woman's still clothed husband. Although Bob seemed to already be heading out the door, saying, "If you got this?" and not even waiting for Alicia's nod. "See you, Suzie."

Alicia stood and stretched. "I'm not going to call you Suzie. Bob and his hockey nicknames. He tried to call me Allie when we first met, the ridiculous man." Suzanne stayed on her knees, just watching the smooth flex of her body as she listened. "I know you're a guest, but you really are more like family now, aren't you? Would you be a dear and clean this? It looks like Bob brought the supplies."

Dumbly, Suzanne nodded, bending back over to lick the stain again, now wet with her saliva and Alicia's juices.

"That's my girl," Alicia said with a brisk slap to Suzanne's pussy. It was more surprising than painful. One finger pushed into her still wet and open vagina, pressing right against that spot that made her whimper with pleasure. "You were so good for us. With a little bit of training, I'll have you perfect."

After that goodbye, Suzanne busied herself with cleaning the entire study to a high polish. The only speck of mess were her clothes still lying on the floor, and the shame cooling on her hot skin. She lost herself in the familiar comfort of cleaning, pushing away all feelings about becoming Alicia's girl. All but the phantom feeling of her finger in Suzanne's pussy, that fleeting promise of pleasure to come.


End file.
